


Half Light

by followinglilies



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Actual Murder, Angst, Dark, F/F, Messed up people, Murderous Thoughts, So much angst, Violence, messed up relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 21:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followinglilies/pseuds/followinglilies
Summary: A look into the darkness of the bunker and of Octavia, through Niylah's eyes.





	Half Light

**Author's Note:**

> Title and fic inspired by Half Light by BANNERS

The morning started like many others. Niylah awoke with a kick to her back as Octavia trashed and flailed in their small bed. Niylah tried to compose herself as quickly as possible, she shook her gently until she awoke with a start. She immediately pushed her way onto the cold floor, collapsing onto her knees as quiet sobs racked her chest.

Niylah rushed down beside her, rubbing her back with one hand while gathering her dark hair in another in case she got sick.

“What’s wrong, love?” Niylah’s soothing whispers cut through the dark silence of the night and Octavia jumped slightly even at the calm words. She struggled to form words but they never made it out of her mouth, tangling up with the sobs in her throat. 

“It was just a dream,” Niylah reached to pull her close but Octavia swatted her hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” she cried, backing away on her hands and knees.

It felt like hours to Niylah until Octavia settled down enough to let her near. She pulled her into her arms and stroked her hair, letting silent tears soak her shirt. 

“I’m a monster,” the choked words cracked Niylah’s heart in two.

“No, Octavia. Listen to me, you are no monster.”

“Don’t you understand? I killed him. I killed them all,” Octavia’s sobs had stopped and her voice was left raw and cold.

“It’s not your fault,” she insisted, desperately attempting to soothe her pain.

“It is,” the sobbing must have drained more than just her voice because Octavia now sounded emotionless and distant. “The sooner you see what I really am, the better.”

Octavia stood suddenly from the floor and ran to the bathroom connected to her room. Niylah was left shivering on the cold floor.

 

Niylah didn’t see Octavia again until that evening. She was working a double shift with Abby in medical and they were swamped with everything imaginable from dehydration and malnutrition to a new outbreak of disease. She was close to relief when there was a commotion at the doors.

Niylah rushed to the front to meet with Abby, Jackson and the other healers. It was a gruesome sight. Three or four young men lay on the hallway floor. Niylah pegged them as Azgeda but it was hard to identify them through the blood that covered them head to toe. Crowds were already forming around them but she could still make out the red streaks on the ground that marked their path.

A woman pushed through the crowd and knelt at Niylah’s feet, her hand were bloody and they stained Niylah’s pants as the woman clamored and grasped at her desperately. She said nothing, simply wept at her feet. A boy rushed forwards towards Abby, Trigedasleng racing out of his mouth.

“Niylah, translate,” Abby demanded, her knowledge of the language was improving but she still often relied on Niylah, especially in situations such as this.

“I...I don’t know, he’s just asking us to help, to save them,” Niylah’s head was spinning. She had seen terrible things during the time in medical, and she had taken them well for the most part. But as she got closer and saw the sword gashes that criss-crossed their body, Niylah’s sorry excuse for a lunch threatened to abandon her body. 

“Who did this?” Jackson asked as Miller shouldered through the crowd.

“Who do you think did this?” he replied.

Niylah’s heart sunk but she ignored it, reminding herself to focus on the task at hand. She and the other medics moved to transport the wounded men. Before they could get close enough, soldiers bearing swords blocked their path. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Abby was furious now, “get out of my way, do you want these men to die?”

“We have direct orders from the Commander, these men are to receive no medical assistance. From you or anyone else,” one of the soldiers replied bluntly. The others were already moving to clear the crowds from the hall.

Abby spun on her heel, turning towards Niylah with an ice in her eyes that seemed to encompass rage, sadness, and fear all at once. 

“Go, see if you can talk some sense into her. I’ll do what I can for the wounded.”

Niylah nodded and wriggled through the swarm of people ignoring Miller’s snide remark about the commander’s relationship with sense.

She didn’t process most of her run through the bunker, she felt like she was floating over her body. She checked the arena, the great hall, the meeting room, and the office but Octavia was nowhere to be found. She was making her way to their room when Indra caught her arm and pulled her roughly aside.  
“You’re looking for Octavia,” Indra said. It was a statement not a question but Niylah nodded anyway.

“She’s alright,” Indra led her down the hall at a rapid pace.

“You think I care if she’s alright? Do you know what she did?” Niylah tried to dig her heels into the ground but Indra continued to tug her along. 

“Of course I know what she did. Did you know she was attacked?” Indra replied.

“Attacked?” she felt her heart racing even faster and she had no idea how to feel anymore. 

“Someone threw a knife at her. She’s fine. She handled it. I assume Abby sent you here. They will not receive medical treatment. It’s a waste of resources. They’ll be dead as soon as we have prepared for the execution. The only reason they made it to medical in the first place is they slipped away in the chaos.” Indra delivered all the news with a steady tone and hardened expression. She stopped moving forwards as they got to the door of the room. 

Niylah hesitated with her hand on the handle for a second but she pushed forwards. Octavia was nowhere to be seen in their small living quarters but she could hear water running in the bathroom. Niylah rapped on the door.

“Octavia?”

No response.

“Come out.”

Still nothing, although she heard something crash from inside.

“I know you’re in there. Please just come out. Or let me in. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on. Please.” Her voice quivered and suddenly she felt as if she was talking about more than just the bathroom door that divided them.

The water stopped and the door swung open. Octavia stormed past her. She had braced herself for a girl with mangled hair, covered in splattered blood. Instead she glimpsed heavy commander makeup and full armor as she brushed by, her cape flowed ever so slightly and her sword swung at her hip. Niylah decided it was much more monstrous than she’d ever seen the girl be. 

Niylah did her best to avoid everyone the rest of the day. She got as far as she could from the execution, hiding out amongst the slowly dying plants of the greenhouse. She spent most her time like that, only getting up to move when she heard others talking about the news of the day. It was almost the next morning when she finally felt tired. Her eyes sagged and she must have let her subconscious take over because the next thing she knew she was already through the door of her room. It was almost totally dark but the light coming from the hall was enough for her to see Octavia’s sleeping shape in the bed. 

Something nearly snapped in Niyah at that. How could someone who had killed just hours ago rest so easily? She felt a rage she almost never felt. Her stomach ached and her blood boiled and she had the urge to sprint out of the room. Then a dark thought came to Niylah, she thought how easy it would be to smother Octavia with a pillow right then and there. She would never do it of course. But the simple fact that the thought crossed her mind was enough to frighten her and keep her in place.

Then from across the room she heard a whimper. She saw thrashing begin underneath the sheets. And something about that seemed to wash away the rage, at least for the time. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Looking down, she could barely make out Octavia’s face, contorted in terror even as she slept. 

That’s when it hit her. Octavia was not a monster. No more than Niylah was for considering murder with a pillow. Octavia was cruel, callous, selfish, harsh, and so much more. But Niylah was seeing that in everyone these days, even herself. 

Octavia was far from a hero. She was starting to become distant to even being a decent person at this point. But she was no monster. She was a girl who had been broken, beaten, twisted, tortured, chewed up and spat out. She was a human. The last thing she needed was someone else to push her away. 

So Niylah didn’t wake her from her nightmare as usual. But she lay down beside her and took her in her arms. And they lay there like that, Octavia thrashing and whimpering, Niylah gently soothing her, until the morning came.


End file.
